


The Outsiders

by elizaye



Series: FWB!verse [28]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-19
Updated: 2013-02-19
Packaged: 2017-11-29 20:49:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/691288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizaye/pseuds/elizaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's about time we got a look at Dean and Cas from the outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Outsiders

“I think I could get used to this,” Jess says, rolling up her yoga mat.

Behind her, Sam laughs.  “Yeah, you’d better,” he says, pulling her into his arms and kissing her neck.  “I might not let you go, even if you do get cold feet.”

Jess turns around in his embrace and shoves the yoga mat into his chest, forcing him to take it from her.  “As if I couldn’t get away from you, if I really wanted to,” she responds, skipping past Sam and out of the upstairs lounge.  She goes downstairs, perfectly aware of Sam following her down the whole way.

“I guess I should count myself lucky that you don’t want to, then,” Sam says as they reach the bottom of the steps and head for the kitchen.

Jess pulls a bottle of water out of the fridge and frowns—she isn’t exactly sure where she left her bag, but she thinks it might be in the downstairs living room.  “Oh, shut up,” she says when she sees Sam smiling down at her.

“I didn’t say a thing,” Sam says mock-innocently, and Jess snatches the yoga mat from him before leaving the kitchen.  “Hey, not one word passed between these lips,” Sam continues, following Jess into the downstairs living room where, as she’d guessed, her gym bag is.

“Hey,” Dean says from his seat on the couch—he’s watching TV, as usual.

Jess nods to acknowledge Dean but turns to address Sam instead.  “You forget that I can read your mind,” she says, dropping the water bottle into her bag and quickly checking to make sure everything’s there.

“Oh right, of course,” Sam says, clearly entertained.

Jess brushes past him.  “I’m gonna be late.”

“It’s yoga, Jess, not boot camp.”

“Yeah, but I’d rather not be late,” Jess says, rolling her eyes.  She passes by the dining room on the way to the front door and smiles at Cas, who’s looking down at a dirty plate on the dining table that seems to have been left there from lunch.  It’s not exactly hard to guess who left it there.

“Dean!” Cas barks, and Jess laughs and wishes she had enough time to stick around for this.

“What?” Dean calls back, and above the sound of her own and Sam’s footsteps, Jess hears Dean coming toward the dining room.

“When are you ever gonna start cleaning up after yourself?”

“Dude, that’s what I’ve got you for,” Dean says in a lower voice, which means he must have reached the dining room.

Sam takes a few quick strides with his ridiculously long legs to beat Jess to the door and pull it open for her, mock-bowing as she passes by him.  She can’t stop a small giggle from coming out of her mouth.

Meanwhile, Cas says to Dean, “Do I _look_ like your housekeeper?”

“Cas!  Keep that up, and you’ll be well on your way to becoming Mrs. Hudson!” Sam shouts from the doorway, grinning.  Jess looks up at Sam’s warm, brown eyes, glittering with amusement, and feels so lucky that she gets to have him as her fiancé— _fiancé!_   God, she just can’t get enough of the way that sounds in her head.

“Dean, pick that up,” Jess hears faintly in Cas’s low rumble, and then, louder, “Better Mrs. Hudson than the Abominable Snowman, Sam!”

“God, isn’t that ever gonna get old?” Sam grouses, and Jess laughs, grabbing his shoulders as leverage to get a goodbye kiss.

“Goodbye, Snowman,” she says with a wide smile.

Sam pouts at her halfheartedly, and she hurries down the driveway to her car, a sensible Toyota Camry parked behind Cas’s junker—with Dean’s love of cars, Jess is surprised he lets Cas drive that poor excuse for a car.  Behind the wheel, Jess looks back at the front door and waves when she sees Sam still standing there.  Then she starts the car and backs down the long driveway to the street.

As she waits for a car to pass so that she can get onto the road, she looks up at the sprawling mansion before her and sighs.  She can’t get used to living in this giant place—it’s not something she likes.  But it’s only temporary, so she supposes it’s all right.  She’s only staying here while Sam’s home for summer break—he’s just finished his second year of law school, and he’ll be flying back out to Palo Alto in the fall.

On the short drive to the studio, Jess considers taking Sam up on his offer.  At the beginning of the summer, when he’d proposed, Sam had asked her to come to California for the next two years while he finished his degree.  She’d told him that she’d think about it, and she’s decided that she can do it, but only if he actually plans to stay there afterwards.  If Sam’s going to come back to Lawrence, Jess would much rather just stay here and wait for him to get back.  Her friends, her family, her job, her entire _life_ is here, and she doesn’t want to uproot herself if she’ll be coming right back in two years…

She pulls into the familiar parking lot and gets out of the car, bag and yoga mat in tow.  A few minutes later, she’s entering the mirrored room and going to her place at the front.  Six of the regulars are already here, along with several new faces.

“Jess,” Lisa says, smiling.

“Oh Lisa, you didn’t have to get up,” Jess says, going over to get a hug.

“I’m not even that pregnant yet,” Lisa says indignantly.  “Only four months!  The only reason I’m not teaching the class myself is because my boss is worried about a silly little thing called _liability_.”

“It may be a silly little thing to you, but you know it’s important,” Jess replies, coaxing Lisa back into her seat.  “Besides, I’m sure Matt appreciates you being more careful with yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah, why is it that you’re so annoyingly mature?”

“Because I’m an adult, and you’re obviously not,” Jess says, arching an eyebrow.

Lisa laughs.  “Oh right, did you double check with Cas for me?  I tried calling him again this morning, but he didn’t pick up.”

“Yeah, you guys are still on for dinner tonight.  Cas—or Dean—” Jess rolls her eyes as she remembers the loud but thankfully brief dispute Dean and Cas had had over who was responsible for the grievous loss of Cas’s phone, “— _one_ of them accidentally dropped Cas’s phone in the toilet.”

“Of course,” Lisa says, shaking her head.  “Well, I’ll bet it was Dean’s fault.”

“That’s what I said,” Jess agrees.

As she steps back over to her bag and unrolls her mat, she thinks about the relationship between Dean and Cas.  Sam had told her a long time ago about the one-sidedness of that relationship, and she’d thought it extremely unhealthy.  Jess admitted to Sam that she’d sort of thought a bit worse of Dean for allowing such an unbalanced situation and never noticing it.

When conflict arose between them, she’d thought that it was all for the best, because Cas didn’t deserve all the pain of unrequited feelings.  But it’s been a little over two years—really, has it been that long?—since they had that fight, and looking at them now, she can’t imagine a sweeter couple.

Sitting cross-legged on her yoga mat, Jess just feels lucky that her own feelings toward Sam are returned and that she didn’t have to go through that kind of turmoil with him—she doesn’t know what she’d do if she lost that dopey giant.

Then Lisa claps her hands to get everyone’s attention, and Jess clears her mind, reaching for inner peace.

* * *

Yoga classes are a drag now, because Lisa’s not allowed to actually do any of the exercises herself.  God, the boredom could kill her.  She talks everyone through the positions, telling her students to watch Jess and Tessa if they get confused, because those two have excellent form.

After class, Lisa waits for everyone to leave before going out to her car and getting in.  The drive to the restaurant takes about five minutes, and then Lisa’s pulling into Yokohama Sushi.  As Lisa gets out of the car, her cell phone rings, and she pulls it out with a huff of annoyance, expecting it to be Anna or Cas, calling to complain about how late she is.  But the caller ID says Katie, so Lisa picks up.  “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Mills,” Katie says.

“Lisa, please,” Lisa reminds her.  “Is everything okay?”

“Uh, sort of.  I was wondering where you keep the uh, cleaning supplies.  Ben was poking around in the fridge and accidentally knocked over a bowl of marinating—”

“Oh,” Lisa says with a sigh—there goes tomorrow’s dinner.  “There’s raw meat all over the floor now, isn’t there?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, there should be some bleach in the cupboard under the sink,” Lisa says, swinging the car door shut.  “The rubber gloves should be in a little tub with the sponges, next to the bleach.”  She faintly hears a cupboard door opening.  “Ben’s fine, I take it.”

“Yeah, he’s fine.  Some of the sauce got on his shirt so I took it off and sent him upstairs for a shower.”

“Great.  Thanks, Katie.  I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“No problem, Lisa.  Bye.”

“Bye.”

A minute later, Lisa enters the restaurant and looks around—according to the text she received toward the end of class, Anna had been saving a table, but Cas hadn’t gotten there yet.

“Lisa, over here!”

Lisa turns to her right and sees Anna waving her arms.  She makes her way over to the table.  “Anna, hey,” she says when Anna gets up to give her a hug.  “Where’s Cas?”

“He should be here any minute now,” Anna answers as they take their seats.  She looks at Lisa and smiles as she says, “Aw, you look like you’re coming along well.”

“If only you could’ve reacted this way when I was carrying Ben,” Lisa says, flipping open the menu.

“That was quite a few years ago, and you know what, I still stand by my belief that that was _way_ too early for you to be having a kid,” Anna says.

Lisa rolls her eyes.  “Well obviously, I was ready for it.  Ben’s turning out great.”

“I’m sure he is.  It’s been such a long time since I last saw him,” Anna says.

“That’s because you never stop by the house,” Lisa replies.  “You know what, you should move back into town.  Cas sees Ben all the time.”

“Did I just hear my name?” Cas says from behind Lisa, and she looks over her shoulder just as he reaches their table.  She starts to get to her feet, but Cas’s hands land on her shoulders—“No, don’t get up,” he says, moving to the side and leaning down to hug her.

Lisa rolls her eyes when Cas has backed up far enough to see her.  “Everyone keeps treating me like I’m a delicate flower or something.  I’m not even that pregnant yet.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Anna says.

As Cas sits down across from Anna, Lisa comments, “Always the mom, Anna.”

“Except that you’re the actual mom,” Anna responds.  Then she says to Cas, “I hear that you get to see Ben all the time.”

Cas smiles.  “Of course.  Lisa drops him off at my office sometimes.  He likes drawing on the chalkboard, but he’s a terrible distraction during office hours.  The students love him.”

“Uncle Cas is his favorite,” Lisa says, smiling.

Anna’s smile turns a little wistful, and Lisa wishes she could slap some sense into her friend.  But Anna says she’s comfortable where she is, and besides, she’s in a small enough community that she’s sort of become a leader figure, and if she leaves, she’d end up worrying about how the town would hold up without her.

The waiter comes then and asks if they’d like anything to drink.

“Just water, please,” Cas says.

“For all of you?” the waiter—Alfie, according to the nametag—asks.

“Yes,” Cas replies.

“All right.  And are you ready to order?”

“Just a few more minutes,” Lisa says.

“Of course.  I’ll be right back with your waters,” Alfie says before departing.

“Y’know, I would’ve appreciated a little wine,” Anna says.  “Lisa might not be allowed to drink, but I’m not pregnant.”

“No, but you’re the one who’s gonna be driving me home,” Cas says.

“What, you didn’t drive here?  I thought your car was out of the shop,” Lisa says.

“I picked it up from Bobby’s yesterday, but it broke down when I was leaving the house,” Cas answers.  “I wasn’t even out of the driveway yet.”

Lisa bursts into laughter, and Anna says, “Are you _sure_ you shouldn’t be switching to a new car?”

“You both know how much Dean hates that car!” Cas says indignantly.

“What are you implying, that Dean _sabotaged_ your car?” Anna says.  “I really don’t think it’s worth that amount of trouble, Cas.”

“I saw him fiddling around under the hood when I was coming out of the house.  He said he was just putting some coolant in, but now, I’m not so sure,” Cas says, and he sounds sulky, which is so unlike him that Lisa goes right back to laughing.

“Maybe he’s worried about your safety and doesn’t want you driving across town in that pile of junk.  Come on, Cas, that car’s probably older than your dad,” Anna says.

“It’s really not.”  Before Anna can respond, Cas says, “We should probably take a look at the menu.”

“I already know what I’m going to order,” Lisa says—she’s been here enough times that she knows what her favorite menu item is.

“Waiting on you, then, Cas,” Anna says.

“Give me a minute,” Cas says, hiding behind his menu.

Lisa looks at Anna.  “So, Cas told me that you’ve been writing.  What are you working on?”

Anna shrugs.  “A novel,” she says evasively.

“Oh, come _on_.  You’ve gotta give me more than that.  I bet Cas knows all about it,” Lisa says.  The fact that Cas remains silent just means that Lisa’s right.

“You’ll see if it ever gets published,” Anna says.

“Why does Cas get to know while I don’t?” Lisa asks.

“Because Cas is helping me with my writing.  You’ve never been that great at writing,” Anna says bluntly.

“Ouch.”

“It’s true.”

“I know,” Lisa says, because it _is_ true.  She’s never liked anything remotely academic, and the only reason she went to college was because her parents expected it of her.  “Anyway,” she says, “can you at least give me a genre?  Is it fiction or nonfiction?”

“Fiction,” Anna says reluctantly.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?  Tell me more,” Lisa says, smiling.

“Don’t push it, Lisa.”

Then Alfie’s back with three glasses of iced water.  “Are you ready to order?” he asks, setting the glasses down in front of them.  He places two small bowl on the table—one contains edamame, and the other is empty—and looks at them expectantly.

“Yes,” Cas says, putting down his menu.  “I’ll have combo A.”

“And would you like tuna or salmon?” Alfie asks.

“Tuna.”

Alfie nods, scribbling quickly on his notepad before turning his attention to Lisa.

“The chirashi bowl, please,” she says.

“And I’ll have the tempura udon,” Anna says.

“Will that be all?” Alfie asks as he takes the menus.

“Yes, thank you,” Lisa replies, and Alfie leaves the table with a smile.

Cas picks up a pod and eats the beans inside, discarding the empty pod in the empty bowl.

“I take it you still don’t like edamame?” Anna says, reaching over to take a pod.

Lisa shakes her head.  “I didn’t like it in the past, and I’m not gonna like it in the future,” she says, looking at the small, lumpy, green _things_ with distaste.  “And you two are not gonna convince me to try another one.  I’m pregnant, so I get to do what I want.”

Cas squints at Lisa.  “I’m fairly certain that’s not how this works,” he says, a hint of a smile playing about his lips.

“Just be happy that I’m not eating them, all right?  More for the two of you,” Lisa says.

“She makes a good argument,” Cas says to Anna, grinning.

“Okay, enough about the beans.  Anna, are you free next weekend?” Lisa asks.

“I’m… not sure.  It depends.  Why, did you have anything in mind?” Anna asks.

“Dude,” Lisa says, looking at Cas with her eyebrows raised.

“What?” Anna asks in an irritated tone.

“I thought you were supposed to be good with birthdays,” Lisa says.

Anna stares at her for a moment before gasping.  “Oh my god, I forgot!” she exclaims.  “Ben!  How old is he gonna be now, eight?”

“Yep, eight,” Lisa says, unable to hold back her smile.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it, then.  What time is his party?”

“Well, the plan is to let the kids play all afternoon and cut the cake around five, so that the sugar high will wear off right around bedtime,” Lisa answers.  “So as long as you show up around three or four, it should be fine.”

“And you’ll get to see the rest of us,” Cas says.  “Sam and Jess are going to be there, and Jo said that she would come as well.  Victor might not make it, though.”

“It’s been a while,” Anna says quietly.

“Anyway, there’ll be a bounce house out back.  When the kids are done playing, we could get in there and have a little fun ourselves,” Lisa says jokingly.

“Now I _really_ have to go,” Anna says, rolling her eyes.  “So will Matt be back in town by then?”

“Yes.  His convention ends tomorrow night, so he’ll be flying back Monday morning,” Lisa says.

It’ll be nice.  Matt’s been gone for just over a week, and she doesn’t like it when he’s gone.  Ben’s been wonderful, though—two nights ago, he crawled into Lisa’s bed and whispered, _Mommy, don’t be sad.  Matt will be back soon_.

“That should be nice,” Cas says, interrupting Lisa’s thoughts.  Then he says to Anna, “Is there anyone new in your life?”

“No,” Anna says, but she hesitates for just a second.

“Hold up,” Lisa says.  “Did you just lie to us?”

“No, of course not,” Anna insists.  Lisa and Cas exchange glances before both turning to stare at Anna.  Sure enough, Anna breaks after maybe thirty seconds.  “Okay, maybe someone might have caught my eye.”  Lisa crows in victory and high-fives Cas even as Anna continues hurriedly, “But it isn’t—nothing’s happened yet!”

“Dude, it’s about time you got back out there, Anna,” Lisa says, smiling broadly.

“I’m not exactly ‘out there’ just yet,” Anna clarifies.

“It’s enough that you’re looking at other people, though,” Lisa says.

She catches the brief silent exchange between Cas and Anna and knows that they must be thinking about Dean.  Lisa’s not stupid—she knows that Anna felt strongly about Dean, that she might _still_ have feelings for him.  But it’s easier if Lisa acts ignorant about it, because Anna doesn’t seem to want to share this information, and well, Cas seems to have it all under control.  Less drama for Lisa is always a good thing.

Lisa can’t help wondering whether or not it’s awkward for Cas, though.  She’s seen the way Dean and Cas are around each other, and Dean really has changed a lot since he and Cas started officially dating.  Lisa loves to joke around and say that Cas was the best thing that ever happened to Dean, but to be perfectly honest, she sort of actually believes that.  Dean is a lot more open now, and while he’s not exactly the poster boy for emotional health, he’s certainly come a long way from the emotionally handicapped guy he used to be.

And Cas… Lisa looks over at him and figures that despite how long it took for their relationship to get sorted out, Dean’s been good for Cas, too—Cas smiles a lot more than he used to.

“What does he do for a living?” Cas asks Anna.

“He’s a uh, a lawyer,” Anna says.

“Lawyer, really?” Cas says.  “I’d think your town wouldn’t even have need of lawyers.”

“Well, he’s been talking about moving to a bigger city.  I suggested Kansas City, but he’s actually more interested in coming to Lawrence.”

“Hey, that’s perfect!” Lisa says.  “Then you can come with him, and we can meet the guy.”

“Lisa, I already said that nothing has happened between us.  We’re just friends,” Anna says.

“For now,” Cas says.

Anna sends a huge fake smile in Cas’s direction and says, “Ha, ha, very funny,” and Lisa laughs.

* * *

It’s still pretty early in the night when they split up to go their separate ways—Ben’s babysitter, Katie, has a curfew and has to be home by nine, which means Lisa needs to get home before then.  As Cas gets in the passenger seat, Anna starts the car and turns on the headlights.

“Need to stop anywhere before going home?” Anna asks.

Cas shakes his head and buckles his seatbelt.  “I think we’re fine on groceries,” he says.

“How is it, having Sam and Jess living with you?”

“Not bad.  It isn’t as though we don’t have enough space,” Cas answers.

“So who does most of the cooking?  I’m guessing you and Jess.”

Cas smiles.  “Sam helps out, too.  Dean’s typically too lazy, but when we can convince him to cook, he takes control over the kitchen and kicks the rest of us out.”

Anna laughs, because she’s experienced Dean’s cooking.  When he’s feeling lazy, he sticks with things that are either microwavable or easy to heat up on a stove, but when he puts effort into cooking, he’s actually really good.  He’d cooked for her a few times during their relationship, and the food was always excellent.  But Anna stops before she can think any further in that direction, because that only leads to discomfort and pain.

“I suppose it’s nice to have Sam and Jess there with us,” Cas continues.  “I don’t know how Dean managed to live there all by himself for such a long time.  The house is beautiful, but it’s so empty.  Even when there are five of us, it feels far too big.”

“I remember looking at the outside and worrying I’d get lost in there,” Anna comments.  After a pause, she asks, “Are Sam and Jess gonna stay there after they get hitched?”

Cas shakes his head.  “I’m fairly certain Jess wants to live in a smaller space.  Hell, I think I’d be more comfortable in a smaller space too, but I know Dean doesn’t really want to move.”

Cas falls silent, and Anna isn’t positive what exactly he’s thinking, but he’s talked to her about this a little bit in the past, and she knows it has to do with John Winchester.  In her time with Dean, she’d only met the man once, briefly, and the meeting hadn’t left the best impression on her.  He seemed difficult to get along with, hardened by loss and loneliness.  But she has a hard time sympathizing with him, because his loneliness is self-inflicted.  He pulled away from Sam and Dean, not the other way around.

After a pause, Cas changes the subject and asks, “Why are you so against sharing your work with Lisa?  I think it’s very interesting.  I showed Sam a sample of it, and he wants to read more.”

“Does he really?” Anna says, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes.  I told him that I’d double check with you before giving him the rest of it.”

“So you really think it’s a good idea,” Anna says.

“Of course,” Cas says.  “I wouldn’t lie to you to spare your feelings—you should know that.”

“Yes, I do know that.  You’re very reliable in that respect,” Anna answers.

“Now, answer my question—why won’t you let Lisa read what you’ve written?”

“For the reason I gave at dinner,” Anna says.

“Partly, perhaps,” Cas concedes.  “But Lisa would be able to give some input about the content at least, so that can’t be the only reason.”

“Can you just let me decide who can read my work?”

Cas nods and falls silent.  The rest of the drive passes by quickly, and a few minutes later, Anna’s pulling up on the street in front of the mansion.

“You should come inside for a while,” Cas says as he undoes his seatbelt.

“No, I really should be heading home.  It’s a pretty long drive back.”

“You can spare another half hour or so,” Cas insists.  “Besides, I’m sure Sam would love to discuss your writing with you.”

Anna contemplates just leaving—it’s not as though Cas can _force_ her to stay—but it really has been a long time since she last saw the Winchesters, and it’ll be nice to catch up a bit.  “All right, but only for a little while,” she says.

She cuts the engine as Cas gets out of the car, and they walk up the long driveway together.

“Do you know which courses you’re teaching the coming semester?” Anna asks.

“Yeah,” Cas answers.  “They have me down for both Anthro and Linear Algebra next semester.”

“Oh, really?  I thought you told them not to give you any more math.”

Cas shrugs.  “We have enough Anthro professors and a shortage of math professors.  I can teach math all right—I just don’t like it much.”

They reach the front door, and Cas lets them in.

“Cas, that you?” Dean calls from within.

“Yep!” Cas responds, shutting the door behind them.  “And I’ve got Anna with me!”

“Hey, Anna,” Dean says as he walks into the entrance hall.  It’s been a while since Anna last saw him, but he looks the same, except… happier.

“Dean,” she answers, accepting his embrace with a smile.

“How’s it going?  Cas tells me you’ve been writing.”

Anna turns to Cas with a sigh.  “Do you just tell this to everyone, then?”

“I already showed some of it to Sam—did you honestly expect that I’d have kept it from Dean?”

“Yeah, Cas and I have no secrets,” Dean says.  “Besides, Cas sucks at lying.”

“I don’t know, Dean.  He kept his emotions hidden from you for a pretty long time without you noticing,” Anna points out.

“Yeah well, I figured it out in the end, didn’t I?”

“Actually…” Cas starts.

“No, no,” Anna interrupts.  “Please, Dean, tell us how you worked it out.”

“Yes, was it before or after Sam told you?” Cas says.

Dean thrusts both hands up in the air and stalks out of the room.  “Can’t get any justice in this house!” he complains loudly.

Laughing, Cas and Anna follow him down the hall and into the kitchen, where he opens the fridge and pulls out three beers.

“I can’t have much to drink,” Anna warns as she takes a bottle from Dean.  “I still have to drive home.”

“Well hey, we’ve got plenty of spare rooms upstairs.  Worst case scenario, you could just stay over tonight,” Dean says.

“Nah, there’s a town council meeting tomorrow that I can’t miss.”

“I’m sure they could go without you for one meeting, Anna,” Dean says.

“Then I don’t _want_ to miss it.”

“Yes, there’s someone in particular whom Anna does not want to miss,” Cas says, dodging the punch that Anna aims his way.

Dean whistles.  “So, who’s the lucky guy?”

Cas is hiding behind Dean now, so Anna settles for giving him the evil eye.  “Nobody,” she answers.

Before Dean or Cas can comment, Sam enters the room.  “Dean, have you seen my—” he stops, taking in Anna’s presence.  “Oh, hey,” he says with a smile.  “You haven’t come over in a long time.”

“It’s been a while, Sam,” Anna replies, relieved by the distraction.  “You always seem taller than I remember, every time I see you.  You’re not _still_ growing, are you?”

Sam rolls his eyes.  “Yeah, great, another joke about my height.  I’m not tired of those at all.”

Anna laughs.  “Is Jess over?”

“She had dinner with her folks tonight, but she should be coming back soon.”

“Nice,” Anna says.  She glances back in Dean and Cas’s direction and sees that they’re standing side by side, Dean’s hand curled around Cas’s waist, his head turned toward Cas’s.  Cas doesn’t blush easily—not anymore, at least—but whatever Dean’s whispering in his ear has a tint rising in his cheeks, and Anna clears her throat pointedly.

Dean lets out a long-suffering sigh and says, “Just shut up and enjoy your beer, would you?”

“Hey, I’m a guest here.  You should be nice to me,” Anna says.  “Sam, back me up.”

“Mm, I don’t know, Anna.  The first thing you did when you saw me was comment on my height, and you know how I feel about that.”

“Oh, you’re no help,” Anna says.

Sam shrugs.  “You be nice to me, and I’ll reciprocate.”

“Anyway,” Dean says, “Sam, you were looking for something?”

“Right, yeah.  I was looking for my sleeping bag.”

“Why do you need _that?_ ” Dean asks.

“Jess and I were thinking about going camping,” Sam answers.

“Oh, that sounds so fun!” Anna says.  “I haven’t gone hunting in years.”

“We won’t be hunting, but yeah, it’s been a while since we last went,” Sam says, looking at Dean.

“Which of you is the better shot?” Anna asks.

“I am, obviously,” Dean says.

Cas snorts.  “Dean, _I_ could probably shoot straighter than you could.”

“You wanna bet on it?”

“What, do you think I’m scared of you?  Sure, I’ll bet on it.”

“Okay, lovebirds.  Put the shooting contest on the backburner,” Sam says.  “Any idea where my sleeping bag is, Cas?”

“Adam borrowed it, remember?” Cas says.

“Oh, I’d forgotten,” Sam says, frowning.  “Dean, can I—”

“No,” Dean says before Sam and finish asking his question.

“Jerk,” Sam complains.

“Bitch,” Dean responds, playfully pushing past Sam and exiting the kitchen.

Anna follows Dean out, and behind her she hears Cas telling Sam, “Don’t worry, I’ll get his sleeping bag for you.  When are you two planning to go?”

“Not sure yet,” Sam says as they head down the hall.

The four of them settle on the couches in the downstairs living room.  Dean reaches for the remote, but Cas snatches it up before Dean can.

“Why does Adam have Sam’s sleeping bag?” Anna asks, taking a drink from her bottle.  “Did you guys kick him out of his room?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Dean says.  “He’s at summer camp right now.”

“Oh, I see.  That sounds good for him,” Anna says.

“I think it will be,” Sam agrees.  “I always wanted to go to summer camp when I was a kid.”

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re a nerd,” Dean says, and Anna notices that his head is turned toward Sam, but he’s watching Cas out of the corner of his eye.

Sam smiles.  “You say that as though it’s a bad thing.”

As Sam finishes speaking, Dean’s hand darts out for the remote, but Cas is prepared for him and thrusts it at Sam.

“Oh, come _on_ ,” Dean says.

“You watch too much television,” Cas says.

“Yeah—aren’t we enough entertainment for you?” Sam says.

“Yeah, right,” Dean scoffs.  “You guys are boring.”

“Well that’s insulting,” Anna says.  “Maybe I should just go.”

“You only just sat down,” Cas protests as Dean says, “Go on ahead.  I don’t need you here,” and Sam just laughs.

“Talk about mixed signals,” Anna comments.  She looks up at the clock on the wall and says, “I really do need to go, though.  I have an early morning tomorrow, and it’ll take me three hours to drive home, at least.”

Cas actually pouts at that, and Anna can’t stop herself from bursting into laughter—that expression just doesn’t belong on his face.  She’s quickly joined by Sam and Dean, and Cas just sighs.

“And you all wonder why I’m so reluctant to make my emotions more visible,” he says.

Dean throws an arm around Cas’s shoulders and tugs him into his side, grinning.  Anna instinctively braces herself for the inevitable pain that comes when Dean and Cas are particularly affectionate with each other, but it doesn’t come.

“You okay?” Cas asks, frowning at her.

Anna smiles.  “Yes, I’m fine,” she says, and for the first time in a long time, she _means_ it.  And judging by the way that Cas’s brow smooths out at her response, he knows it.  She gets to her feet, and the guys stand with her.  “I’m gonna go, now,” she says.  “It was nice to see you both again.”

“Oh, so it wasn’t nice to see me,” Cas says, mock-hurt coloring his tone.

“I see you a whole lot more than I see these two lumps,” Anna says, leaning into first Sam’s arms and then Dean’s.

“I feel so unappreciated now,” Cas says, but he’s smiling and backing out of the living room.

Sam, Dean, and Cas walk Anna to the front door, and she coaxes a hug out of Cas before finally taking her leave and heading down the long driveway.

Anna tilts her head back to look up at the stars as she walks.  She must finally be over Dean, she decides with a smile.  She doesn’t remember the last time she felt sincerely happy for them—there have been rare moments over the past two years or so, but most of the time her thoughts of them were tainted with bitterness and envy, and it’s so refreshing to be able to think of them now without those emotions in the way.

She recalls their interactions tonight and doesn’t remember ever feeling that uncomfortable twinge in her chest.  She thinks of the way they looked at each other, the way they moved in harmony, so in-tune with each other that their hearts may as well have been beating as one, and she is truly and honestly happy for them.

Anna’s smile widens to the point that she feels silly—a weight has just been lifted off her chest, and she feels giddy and pleased.

As she reaches the street, she catches sight of a familiar car, an expensive European sports car that she hasn’t seen for a very long time.  And then she realizes that the driver’s sitting inside, and that she recognizes him.

Anna catches his eye, and he lowers the window closer to her as she approaches.  “Balthazar, right?” she says when she’s sure she can speak and be heard.

He smiles.  “Yes.  Now, are you Anna or Lisa?”

“Anna.”  She hesitates for a moment before asking, “What are you doing out here?”  Balthazar opens his mouth to answer, but Anna cuts him off before he can.  “Never mind—it’s none of my business.”

“I suppose it’s not.”

Anna considers leaving it at that, but she can’t resist saying a little more.  “You know, you _can_ go visit.  I’m sure Cas would be happy to see you.”

“I… I know.  Thank you, Anna,” Balthazar says.

“You’re welcome,” she says.  After a pause, she adds, “Good night.”

“Good night,” he responds.

Anna straightens and walks back in the opposite direction, toward where she parked her car.  She recognized the pain that had flashed in his eyes when she’d mentioned Cas, and she wonders how deeply he loved—loves?—Cas, how he managed to fall so deep, so quick.

It occurs to her that she was standing right where he is now not long ago, that it had hurt so much to see Dean so happy with another person.  And she hopes that Balthazar won’t take as long as she did to come to his senses.  She’s almost positive that he’ll do better than she did—from what Cas told her about him, he doesn’t even seem the type to fall deeply in love.

And yet…

Anna gets behind the wheel of her car and lets out a soft sigh.  In the rearview mirror, she can still see Balthazar’s car parked by the side of the road, and she can still faintly make out his figure in the driver’s seat.  She considers giving Cas a call to tell him to come outside, but it’s not her choice to make.

She starts the car and drives away.

* * *

Balthazar watches as Anna walks down the street to her car and waits for a few minutes before getting out of his car.

It’s been just over two years since things ended between him and Cas, practically before they even had a chance to start, and since it had been summer, the end of a school year, it had been convenient for him to just slip out of town, make a few empty promises to call, and disappear off the map.  He’s spent the time since just traveling around the States, taking jobs for a few months here and there.

Now he’s finally planning to go back to England, and all he wants is to see Cas again.

He caught a glimpse of Anna and Cas going into the mansion earlier, and he could see that Cas is happy and well, and that should be enough for him, but… it isn’t.

So he makes his way up the long driveway and up to the front door, hesitates only for a few seconds before knocking—he’s never been an indecisive person, and once he’s made up his mind to do something, he follows through.

But when the door swings open, Dean’s the one standing in the doorway.  He stares for a moment, uncomprehending, before saying, “You.”

“Hello, Dean,” Balthazar says, and he even manages to tack a smile onto the end.

“What are _you_ doing here?”

Balthazar is regretting his decision to come when he opens his mouth to respond, but before he can say anything, Cas’s voice travels over from inside the house.

“Dean, who’s at the—” and then Cas’s head appears over Dean’s shoulder, and he exclaims, “Balthazar!”

Dean steps to the side, and Cas lunges at Balthazar, arms wrapping tightly around him in a bear hug, something Balthazar wasn’t even aware that Cas did in the past.  Cas claps him twice on the back before pulling away, eyes bright.

“You said you’d call, you liar.  Come on in,” he says.

But Balthazar shakes his head, because he doesn’t know if he can handle that right now.  “No, I… I can’t.  I’ve a flight to catch.  I just wanted to stop by and uh, say hello, I suppose.”

Cas frowns.  “All right, so two years without a word, and now you plan to show up here and leave immediately, without even coming in?”

“Yes, exactly,” Balthazar says.

“Just come in for a drink.  You don’t have to stay long,” Dean says, and while Balthazar can tell that Dean doesn’t like having him around, his invitation is sincere.

“I suppose I could stay for a drink,” Balthazar relents, and Cas steps back to let him into the house.

“What have you been doing in all this time?” Cas asks as Dean closes the door.

Balthazar removes his shoes—Dean and Cas are walking around in socks, so he will follow suit.  “I’ve just been traveling around the States,” he answers.

“For the whole two years, you were traveling?” Cas says, brows raised.

“Not the entire time,” Balthazar replies, following Cas down the hall.  Dean walks a few steps behind them.  “I stayed in a few places and took up jobs.”

“What, for fun?  It’s not as though you would’ve needed them,” Dean says.

Balthazar glances over his shoulder and says, “Well, do you need your job, Dean?  Does it pay the bills for this place, or are you still living off your father’s money?”

“Hey, I don’t touch my dad’s money.  I just live here.”

Balthazar is about to respond, but he notices a shift in Dean’s expression from challenging to subdued, and he turns his head toward Cas in time to see Cas turning back to face forward.  He may have missed their silent exchange, but Cas’s desire to pass the evening in peace is clear.

“Tell me about the places you’ve been, then,” Cas says as they enter a sitting room.  Balthazar recognizes it as the room in which he’d spoken with Dean so long ago.  Dean automatically drops down onto the couch, and Cas moves to sit next to him.

“Well, do you want a list?” Balthazar asks, taking a seat in the stuffed armchair where he’d sat last time.

“Just the highlights, please,” Cas responds with a smile.

“Let’s see… I stayed in Chicago for a few months and got a job at a pizza parlor.”

Dean laughs.  “ _You_ , waiting tables?  I woulda liked to see that,” he says.

“They allowed me to put toppings on some of the pizzas as well,” Balthazar says, and this time Cas laughs too.

For the next hour, Balthazar regales Dean and Cas—and Sam, who joins them about ten minutes in—with tales of his travels.  He stayed in Los Angeles for two weeks and managed to wheedle his way into the Golden Globes.  Last year, he happened to be in San Francisco in time for Pride, so of course he’d attended that.  And two weeks ago, Balthazar was in New York.  He just happened to be passing through Central Park as _Avengers 2_ was being shot, so he is now an extra in a scene that might make it into the movie.

But eventually he looks at his watch and decides that it’s about time to go.

“Oh, don’t go,” Cas says when Balthazar mentions that he should leave.  “It’s not as though you ever have anywhere important to be.”

“I’m flying back to England, Cas.  I’d say that counts as important—wouldn’t you?”

“You can just move the flight back,” Cas says.  “Stay in town for a few nights.  We can even arrange a get-together with our university friends—the ones that you got along with, at least.”

Balthazar shakes his head.  “My family is expecting me back,” he says.  “I don’t want to disappoint them.”

“You’ve already been gone for so long.  They can last another few days without you,” Cas reasons.

“I’m sure they can, but I’ve already given them my word,” Balthazar says.

“Your word can’t be worth that much to them anyway,” Cas says teasingly.  “You promised that you’d only be gone for a year, and now it’s almost been three.”

“Yes, and if I want my credibility to go up, I should probably keep my word this time.”

Cas sighs.  “Go on ahead, then.  But you’d better actually call, this time,” he says.

Balthazar stands, and the others get to their feet as well.  “I will,” he replies.  “I’ll make sure to keep you updated on my far less exciting adventures at the estate.”

“I’m sure they’ll be just as interesting,” Cas says.

“Though I highly doubt he’ll run into any Avengers there,” Sam says.

Balthazar chuckles.  “You don’t have to walk me out,” he says as he heads toward the hallway, and when he reaches it, he hears only one set of footsteps behind him.

“I’m glad that you’re all right,” Cas says as they come closer to the front door.

“I told you that I’d be fine.”

“You don’t have to hide your feelings from me,” Cas says.  “I know that it took… that it must have taken some strength to walk in here today, and I’m grateful that you were willing to do so.”

“This is far too sentimental for me, or anyone, to take, Cas.  Please, don’t.”

Cas smiles and pulls open the front door.  “I’ll leave it at that, then.  Have a safe flight.”

Balthazar steps into his shoes.  “Thanks, Cas.  If you’re ever on the other side of the Atlantic, set aside some time to visit.  I can show you around.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Cas says, and then he steps forward for a hug.  “Goodbye, Balthazar.”

Balthazar’s voice softens as he responds, “Goodbye, Cas.”

They separate, and Balthazar backs up two steps before turning around and walking briskly down the driveway.  The front door closes a moment later, and Balthazar wishes he could be on the other side of it, or that Cas could be with him, out here.  But it’s far too late for that, and he’s long accepted that Cas was never meant to be with him.

He’s happy now, happier than Balthazar’s ever seen him.  He smiles far more than he used to, and Sam and Dean clearly treat him as a member of their family.  This is probably the best ending Cas could have gotten, and deep down, Balthazar really is happy for him.  It’ll become easier with time.

He gets into his car and starts the engine, sets the GPS on his phone to the airport.

An hour and a half later, Balthazar walks through Kansas City International.  He has another hour to kill before his flight—he’d been lying to get away from Cas and the Winchesters, and he’s just grateful that Cas didn’t see through him.  Or maybe Cas knew.  Cas has always been more perspicacious than average, and it’s completely possible that he saw how much Balthazar wanted to leave and decided to let him go.  It’s a gracious move that befits Cas’s personality.

He enters a bar, takes a seat at the counter, and orders a glass of scotch.  As he waits, he glances at the man next to him.  He’s well-dressed, with a small briefcase at his side.  Balthazar does a double-take when he sees the gold-lettered engraving in the fine black leather— _J. Winchester_.

He tries to suppress his curiosity—he knows more than a little about John Winchester from hearing Cas talk about him.  He knows that Dean’s old man hadn’t visited in years because he was always too busy, always traveling between different headquarters, and that he was practically an absentee father.  Seeing him here, now…

“Hello,” Balthazar says, and the man turns, looks him over in an assessing way.  “I couldn’t help but notice the name on your luggage—are you Dean Winchester’s father?”

“Yes, I am,” John responds, brow furrowed.  “Who’s asking?”

“Oh, just a friend of a friend,” Balthazar says.  “I actually don’t know him very well.  I just—are you in town for long?”

A muscle twitches in John’s jaw.  “Not sure yet,” he answers evenly.

“I don’t mean to pry, but… do Sam and Dean even know you’re in town?” Balthazar asks.

John hesitates, then seems to realize that the hesitation is already an answer in itself.  “No,” he admits.  “I… haven’t been back for a while.”

“Well, I just came from the house—both boys are there, if you’re planning to see them.”

“That’s hardly any of your business, is it?” John says gruffly.

“No, it’s not,” Balthazar says.  He feels that that was a clear enough dismissal, but he can’t resist adding, “The truth is, I came back into town to see someone, an old friend.  I was so worried about how he would receive me that I… almost left without speaking to him.  And now that I _have_ spoken to him, I know that I feel better than I did before.”

“I don’t need advice from you, stranger,” John says, and Balthazar nods, holds his hands up in surrender.

“I know you don’t.  But it’s there, regardless.”  The bartender puts Balthazar’s drink down, and he picks it up.  “It was nice to meet you, John.”

John only nods in response, and Balthazar takes his drink and walks off to get a booth—there’s a book he wants to start reading.  It’s still far too easy for him to imagine how Castiel would react—“Taking up reading for leisure now, hmm?  Didn’t know you had it in you,” he’d say, smiling.

But Castiel’s smiles belong to Dean, have always belonged to Dean, and Balthazar thinks that he might finally be okay with that.

* * *

John downs the rest of his whiskey and slaps a few bills down on the counter before picking up his briefcase and leaving.  The stranger hadn’t left his name, and when John looks in his direction, he sees the blond head bent down, engrossed in a book.  Perhaps his attention didn’t stay on John for long, but his words are persistent, refuse to be shaken off.

_…now that I have spoken to him, I know that I feel better than I did before._

John’s felt empty for so long, and maybe, just maybe, finally seeing his sons will do him some good.  He’s thought about coming back so many times, but he’s never been able to find the courage to actually drive down to the house.  About eighteen months ago, he’d come here, only to lose his resolve at the last moment and board another flight right back to Orlando.

He leaves the airport in a rental car, and the drive to his old home feels far too short.  In almost no time, he’s pulling up in front of the mansion and getting out of the car.  It’s been over four years since he’s seen the place, and the exterior doesn’t seem to have changed a bit.

He spent the whole drive trying to think of something to say to the boys when he sees them, but as he walks up the driveway, he can’t remember a thing.  He knows that Sam ought to be home on summer break, and Dean never left.  Besides, that stranger at the airport confirmed that both his sons were here.  But he has no idea what he’ll say to them.  He abandoned them for so long, not even taking the time to see them in the past two years.  He’d made brief phone calls on holidays and birthdays and anniversaries because it was easier to not think about Mary that way, and it’s absolutely no excuse.

And then Dean had called about Adam, and John felt even less capable of returning home.  He hardly even remembers Kate—it’d been a mistake, and Adam was proof of his lack of fidelity.  It hurt to hear about Adam, and he didn’t think he could face any of his sons.

He still doesn’t feel prepared to see them, but it’s about time.

When he knocks on the door, though, it opens to reveal an unexpected face.

“Mr. Winchester,” the man says, blue eyes wide with surprise, and this face is familiar to John, but he can’t quite place it.

Before he has time to try, he hears Dean’s voice, unmistakable—“Dad?”

“Dean,” John manages, and then Dean’s right in front of him, eyes wide with disbelief.  There’s an instant of stillness in which John starts to think he shouldn’t have come after all, and then Dean’s stepping forward, arms wrapping around John and squeezing tight.  John returns the hug gratefully.

Then Dean pushes away, looking at him in the dim light, and John gets a good look at the son he hasn’t seen in years.  He’s visibly older—doing the math in his head, John realizes that Dean should be twenty-eight now.  His jaw has squared out a bit since John last saw him, and his features seem harder, sharper.

But he still clearly sees Mary’s shadow in the graceful arch of his eyebrows, the soft curve of his lips, the gentle slope of his nose, and he isn’t surprised at all that it still hurts.

“Dad,” Dean says, and his voice breaks a little.  “What are you doing here?  Did—is everything okay?”

John swallows and says, “Yeah.  Yeah, everything’s fine.  I just… I was in town, and I thought I’d come see you boys while I was here.  Is Sam here?”

“Yeah,” Dean answers, nodding.  He steps back to let John inside and shouts, “Sam!”

Sam’s voice comes from farther inside the house—“Dude, I thought I told you we were going to sleep, Dean!  Can’t this wait ‘til tomorrow?”

“No, you’d better get your ass down here!” Dean shouts before John can say anything.

“It’s all right,” John says.  “I can see him tomorrow morning, if—I’ll stay the night here, if you—”

“Stay,” Dean says.  He huffs a short laugh.  “Hell, it’s _your_ house, not ours.”

Then they hear footsteps thundering down the stairs, and John turns after taking his shoes off and sees Sam stopping short at the sight of them, standing in the hall.

“Sam,” John says, barely managing to smile.  The look on Sam’s face—disbelief, incomprehension, maybe anger—grates at John’s confidence.  The last time they spoke over the phone, more than two years ago, Sam had been so angry with him, and John hardly knows where they stand now.  So he says, tentatively, “It’s good to see you again.  It’s been a long time.”

Sam blinks a few times, shakes his head, and moves closer.  John walks over and meets him in an embrace, and he’d imagined being shouted at, being cursed and railed against, and this reception is so much better than he could have expected.

“Too long,” Sam answers, voice low and fervent.

They break apart, and John takes a moment to look at Sam as he did Dean.  He was so tall the last time John saw him, but it seems like he’s gotten even taller since then, and they’re standing close enough together that John almost has to tip his head back a little to see his son’s face.  Sam seems to have aged more than Dean has—he’d looked so much younger, so much more innocent the last time John was home, and now it seems like he’s grown up, grown into a man.

“Come on in,” Dean says, leading the way down the hall.

John never spent much time in this house—he lived here for the first few years after buying it, but as soon as Sam went to college, John moved to the Orlando headquarters and spent time traveling between different branches, making sure never to stay long at home.  Because everything about Lawrence made him think of Mary, and the only escape he had was when he was immersed in work.  Because every time he saw Dean’s face, he saw Mary.

In the past few minutes, it’s become clear that that still holds true.  As they enter the living room, Dean and the other man—John thinks he recognizes him as the boy who’d come to a few Christmas dinners—sit down beside each other on one of the couches.  John moves toward one of the armchairs.

“I’ll be right back,” Sam says, heading for the stairs, and John sits down.

“How is Jess?” John asks.  He remembers Jess as a young blond girl, with bright eyes and a sweet smile, remembers that she used to come over often in the afternoons during Sam’s high school years.  The last time he asked Dean, Sam and Jess were still together, and he assumes that it is still true now.

“She’s great,” Dean answers.  He shifts in his seat, moving closer to the man whose name John honestly cannot remember.  Dean throws an arm around the dark-haired man, eyes defiant, and says, “Not sure if you remember him, but this is Cas.”  He provides no other explanation, just continues to stare John down.

“Yes, I remember him,” John says, and now that he’s heard the name, he does remember Cas as the scrawny kid who’d joined in on their Christmas dinners, quiet and respectful and a bit owlish with his wide, bright blue eyes.

Cas turns a tight-lipped smile in John’s direction and says nothing.  John wants to ask about the nature of Cas’s relationship with Dean, but… well, who is he to judge his son’s lifestyle?  He’s been gone for so long that he hardly has a right to question Dean’s choices—he just wants to know that Dean is happy.

“So uh, why are you back in town?” Dean asks, distracting John from his train of thought.

“There was some business in the local office,” John answers.  It was nothing he couldn’t have handled from his base in Orlando, but he’d needed to come home, and it feels wrong to make this about business now, especially when he sees the slip in Dean’s expression that reveals some disappointment.  So he admits, “I… I’ve been meaning to come back, but it’s been difficult to… it’s been difficult.”

“I’m sure,” Dean says, guarded.

John clears his throat and says, “Christ, it’s hot in here for the middle of the night.  Dean, don’t we have an air conditioner installed?”

“Uh, yeah.  Aren’t you used to the heat?  You’ve been living in Orlando,” Dean says.

“Just turn the AC on, would you?”

“‘Kay,” Dean says suspiciously, getting to his feet and leaving the room.  If John remembers correctly, the AC is three rooms over, in the downstairs study.

As soon as Dean is gone, John gets to his feet and looks pointedly at Cas before heading toward the kitchen.  Sure enough, the dark-haired man understands John’s unspoken request and follows him through the house.  As they walk, John recalls the few times he met the boy, and he’s sure that he never caught a romantic vibe in Cas and Dean’s interactions before—he only remembers liking that the kid was honest and earnest and able to make his boys laugh.

When they’re alone in the kitchen, John turns around, almost expecting the young man from four, five years ago to be standing in front of him.  What he sees instead is Cas of the present, fixing an unwavering stare on him, with eyes that seem far wiser than his age suggests.  Frankly, it’s more than slightly unnerving.  John’s faced down CEOs with net worths large enough to rival small countries, yet he finds himself avoiding this thin man’s eyes.

“Are you planning to give me the protective father talk?” he asks.

John lets out a sigh.  “I know I have no right, not after all this time, but—”

“No.  No, you really don’t,” Cas says softly, and John pauses, surprised that he’d say it straight out.  Cas continues, louder now, “I know your reasons for leaving, and while I can understand your pain, I cannot say that it’s all right.  And I don’t believe that I am more likely to hurt either of your sons than you are, so excuse me if I do not take your warning seriously.”

John wants more than anything to snap back, because he’s John Winchester, and he doesn’t just lie back and take it.  But this is about his sons, and he’s clearly in the wrong.  And no matter how much Cas might dislike him, John finds himself liking the kid even more than he did before, because he’s either very brave or very naïve to be able to talk to the head of the Winchester empire like this, and when John thinks about it, brave and naïve suits Dean perfectly.

So he nods once at Cas and gives him a small smile.  “Well spoken,” he says.

Cas nods back.  Then Dean’s voice sails in from the other room—“Cas?  Dad?”—and Cas turns to go.

But John speaks up, stopping him in his tracks.  “Thank you,” he says.  “For taking care of him—of both of them.”

Cas turns back around and says, “There’s no need to thank me.  They’re family.”  But he offers up a smile this time, and John figures that they’re all right.

Dean appears behind Cas and says, “What’re you two doing in here?”

“I thought we could use some drinks,” Cas says, walking past John and over to the refrigerator.

Dean eyes John suspiciously but doesn’t comment as Cas takes out two bottles of beer and hands them to John.  They emerge from the kitchen a minute later with one beer each, plus two extra for Sam and Jess.

“Hi Mr. Winchester,” Jess says as they reenter the living room.  “I’m Jess—not sure if you remember me.”

“Of course I do,” John says.  “You were the one who helped Sam with math and physics—he never had a mind for science, not like Dean.”

Jess laughs, and Sam looks surprised, as though it’s news that John remembers things about him.  It hurts to see that look on his face, and it’s even worse to know that it’s entirely John’s fault for causing it.

“That’s me, all right,” Jess says, still smiling.

They all sit back down—John, Dean, and Cas take their original seats, and Jess and Sam take the smaller couch.  John initially worries that they’ll question him more about his motives for returning, but Dean doesn’t bring it up again, and Sam doesn’t mention it at all.

The conversation flows naturally, Sam, Dean, Cas, and Jess talking about what they’ve been doing in turn.

John learns that Jess graduated from KU Lawrence two years ago, spent a year getting a license, and just finished her first year teaching kindergarten.  She’s beautiful, smart, and everything that Sam deserves, and John’s just grateful that they’re happy together.  When John notices the ring on Jess’s finger, he can’t resist asking about the engagement, how and when it happened, and when they plan on getting married.  “Well, we’re at least gonna wait ‘til I’m outta law school,” is Sam’s response.

He learns about Cas’s background, finds out that Cas is one of the youngest professors who’s ever been hired by KU Lawrence—they pretty much took him right out of graduate school so that he transitioned from being a teacher’s assistant to an actual teacher.

He hears about Stanford, about Sam’s latest internship as an assistant in a large law firm in the bay area and about some of the cases Sam’s worked on since then.  Sam is a bit reluctant to share more, but John doesn’t press.

John learns that Dean’s practically taken over Bobby’s car repair shop, and he promises himself that he’ll visit Bobby as soon as he can, because it’s definitely been too long since he last saw that old man.  Of course, thinking of Bobby as an old man reminds John that he himself is growing steadily older, and he decides to stop that train of thought right there.

Throughout the conversation, the four youths all seem so comfortable around each other, and it occurs to John that they really _are_ a family, as Cas said.  They include John in their laughs, clueing him in to their inside jokes.  Jess leans over to explain why she and Sam keep calling Cas “Mrs. Hudson,” and when John admits that he’s read the complete works of Sherlock Holmes before, he earns a huff of disbelief from Dean and an approving look from Cas.

In these moments, John realizes that he has a place here, in this family, and even though he knows it’s impossible to fill the gaping hole in his chest that Mary left behind… this is the first time in years that he’s ever wanted to try.

* * *

Sam tosses and turns in bed, unable to fall asleep.

Dad is really home.  It’s freaking impossible, is what it is.  It’s _surreal_.  Sam’s pretty sure that part of Dean always believed Dad would be back someday, but it wasn’t until Sam saw Dad standing in the hallway that he realized he’d honestly believed that Dad would never show his face in Lawrence again.

And then that nice, long conversation they had tonight… it just seemed too good to be true.  Dad was friendly, charming, and downright _nice_ , and he didn’t say a thing about Dean and Cas, even though they kept it pretty obvious what their relationship was like.  Sam’s never had the impression that Dad was homophobic, but he’d expected at least some surprise and maybe a little bit of distaste that his own son turned out to be bisexual.  Dad’s lack of reaction was a pleasant surprise.

Sam flips over onto his stomach and punches his pillow a few times before resting his head on it again.  He looks at Jess, sound asleep, and smiles.  She’s a deep sleeper—Sam wouldn’t be able to wake her unless he really tried.  He envies her for that ability sometimes.  He closes his eyes again and tries to clear his mind, but thoughts keep stubbornly rising to the surface.

Finally, he gives up and gets out of bed to grab a glass of water.  Maybe the short walk will do him some good.  He walks past the guest room where Dad’s sleeping—Cas had instantly offered up the master bedroom, but Dad had refused, joking about how Dean is the man of the house now—and Dad’s light is off, but Sam’s surprised to see that light is still glimmering from under Dean and Cas’s door.

Sam walks over to their room silently and tries to pick up what they’re saying, but they’re murmuring too softly for him to pick up.  So he turns away and goes back to the staircase—he can sorta guess at what they’re talking about, anyway.  Dean had been like Sam, not really wanting to touch the issue of _why_ Dad came home, and Sam’s almost positive that Dean is discussing it with Cas now.

And he’s happy for Dean, because Dean never used to unload to anyone in the past.  He hadn’t wanted to burden Sam, even though Sam would never have thought it a burden, and he obviously couldn’t talk to Dad, so it’s just good to know that there’s someone Dean can actually _talk_ to, without reservation.

In the kitchen, he pours himself a glass of water from the pitcher and leans against the counter to drink it.  Not a minute later, he recognizes the rhythm of Dean’s footsteps, coming closer.

“Sammy,” Dean says, appearing in the doorway.  “What’re you doing up?”

“Nothin’.  Just thirsty,” Sam answers.

“Oh.”  Dean frowns and says, “I uh, couldn’t sleep.”

Sam’s still startled sometimes by just how much Dean’s changed since he and Cas really started “going steady,” how much Cas has managed to get his brother to open up.  Dean is so much more honest about his feelings now, doesn’t shy away at the first sign of them, and after years of watching his brother repress everything to do with his feelings, Sam still has to get used to this change.

“Yeah?  ‘Cause of Dad?” Sam asks, but it’s not really a question.

Dean nods, moving to get himself a glass of water.  “Yeah, I just…” he sighs.  “Why now, y’know?  What’s he doing back here, _now?_   It’s not as though anything’s changed.”

“I don’t know,” Sam says as Dean leans on the counter beside him.

“Cas says that maybe he just felt like it was time.  It’s… I don’t like it.”

 _It’s not enough_ , Dean doesn’t say, but Sam hears it anyway.  “Cas is probably right, though,” Sam says.  “Didn’t his dad come back from who-knows-where a few years back?”

“Yeah, he did.”  Dean sighs again.  “It’s… it’s weird.  I was sorta beginning to think I’d never see Dad here again.  And now that he’s actually here…” he shakes his head.

Sam smiles.  “Do you remember the day Dad first took us to see this place?”

“Yeah, ‘course I do.  I remember the first thing I wanted to do was show it off to Jo and Victor,” Dean says, lips tugging upward in a smile.

Sam huffs a laugh.  “God, it’s been a long time.”

They stand together in the companionable silence that follows, each reliving his memories.

Sam remembers loving how high the ceilings were, and then he remembers being worried about getting lost in such a huge house.  Dad had reassured him by leaving him upstairs in his bedroom and going back downstairs to shout at him, as proof that Sam would be able to hear him and find his way through the house by ear, if nothing else.  Dean had thrown an arm around his shoulders and said, “It’s okay, Sammy, you won’t get lost.  Not if I’m around.”

“Well,” Dean says, pulling Sam out of his reverie, “I’m heading back up to bed.  Don’t stay up too late.”

“Yeah, I’ll follow you up.”

Sam downs the rest of his water and puts his glass down by the sink.  Dean pours what he didn’t finish down the drain, and Sam would point out that he’s wasting water, but he just doesn’t feel like it right now.  They head upstairs together.

“‘Night, man,” Sam says at the top, turning to go down the hall toward his bedroom.

“G’night, Sammy,” Dean answers, heading off toward the master bedroom.

Sam glances back as his brother nears his room and hears Cas’s voice faintly—“You lazy ass, how long can it take you to get a glass of water?”  Dean shuts the door then, and it’s hard to make out his indignant reply.

Sam slips back into his bedroom, shuts the door, and climbs back into bed with a warm, contented feeling in his chest.  Dad’s home, Dean and Cas are happy, Adam is safely at summer camp, and Jess is _here_.

A few minutes later, Sam falls asleep, smiling.


End file.
